


Wrestling

by Blackparade



Series: A Light Is Waiting To Carry You Home [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Domestic Avengers, Eli - Freeform, F/M, Family Fluff, Humor, Kate - Freeform, M/M, Parents Steve and Bucky are my fav Steve and Bucky, patches - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackparade/pseuds/Blackparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eli walks in on his fathers 'wrestling' and decides to speak to his best friend Kate on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrestling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarBucksPanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarBucksPanda/gifts).



> For StarBucksPanda, who requested this cute little prompt.

Midnight shifts are always brutal.

Back in Brooklyn, there was always a robbery, a noise violation, and other much more unsavory calls that occupied Steve's time, ensuring his shifts seemed to end very quickly.

And while he thanks God every day for this job and town, and a dream home that he occupies with his husband and son, the nights where he's left sitting and scanning over reports in some empty parking lot downtown leave his mind rotting.

The first signs of spring are truly starting to show, as he's able to shed the light jacket Buck had insisted he wear before he left for his shift and crack his windows slightly.

One more day until St. Patrick's Day, and then he'll have some drunk teenagers to at least occupy his long shift.

Across town, Sam keeps sending him snaps from the new Club SHIELD grand opening that he'd taken Sharon to, and Steve is just left to send him back the finger every time.

1:02 a.m.

Five more hours, then he can go home to watch a cartoon of Eli's choice and snuggle up on the couch with the munchkin and his best guy before they drop Eli off at school.

Speaking of, the contact name 'My Baby <3 <3 <3' appears on his phone screen, and a surge of panic hits him. The last time Bucky had called him in the middle of a night shift, he had just received a pretty vile letter from one Brock Rumlow, who was in the middle of a lengthy domestic-violence sentence in a New York prison.

"Bucky?"

He's thoroughly unprepared for the soft, sinfully sexy whimper he gets in response.

"Stevie"

Steve has to take a moment to catch his breath. The nickname just does things to him; it always has. And when Bucky says it like that, all breathy and needy, well.....

"What do you need baby?"

"It's really cold here, Steve. Can't you come home for a few minutes?"

Steve can't stop the smile that spreads across his face. Bucky is always cold. Steve and Eli have resigned to gifting him with warm embraces throughout the day, sometimes teaming up and attacking the brunet in tickles until he's pinned on the floor in their embrace.

"Cold? What are you wearing, sweetheart?"

"A sweater."

" _A_ sweater?"

"Your sweater."

The huge, faded, grey and black NYPD sweater hasn't been Steve's since he and Bucky started dating.

It looks better on the smaller man, anyway.

"I'm already on my way."

 

* * *

 

 

It's almost like being in high school again, sneaking into Trish Walker's house while her parents were sleeping, quiet as a mouse.

Patches only seems mildly interested in Steve's late night return, scurrying off and up the stairs toward Eli's room, the boy seemingly sound asleep.

An impossibly quiet ascent up said stairs and a quick peak inside the room confirms, much to Steve's relief, his suspicions. Eli is wrapped up tight in his blankets, the kitten now snuggled up on his pillow above his head.

The sight is enough to elicit a fond smile on Steve's lips, completely at loss for answers as to what he ever did to deserve such a blessing.

Well, Eli's not the only joy he stumbled into.

The usually instantaneous trip from Eli's bedroom to his own seems like an epic odyssey, Bucky being the fair maiden waiting at the end of his harrowing voyage.

Steve is knocked almost flat on his ass at the sight he finds in his bedroom.

Buck wasn't lying about the sweater, looking criminally adorable swimming in the soft cotton. He's got a worn out paperback copy of The Martian Chronicles in his hands, and even with his hair recently cut, a few strands still find their way onto his face as he reads.

The best part however, are the unholy tight black stockings that Steve had bought him a few days prior for his birthday sitting snug against his sublime thighs.

Steve decides in that moment that no one, NO ONE, can make lingerie look as good as his husband.

(And he dated Leggy Peggy for three years, so that's saying something.)

He lets out a staggering exhale, and an impossibly bright smile lights up his face when Bucky smiles up at him, biting at his bottom lip and throwing his book off to the side of the bed.

"Stevie."

"Hi, baby."

Instinct has him kicking off his shoes and crawling up into bed, looming over Bucky's body, all wrapped up like a gift, just for him.

"You're so gorgeous, Buck."

The brunet just cups his face and pulls him into a soft kiss, simultaneously stealing his breath away.

"I'm all yours, Captain."

Then, Bucky not so subtly pulls Steve's hand down to caress his stocking-clad thigh, and Steve is just a man, immediately squeezing the supple flesh trapped under soft silk.

Then Bucky leans up and whispers in Steve's ear.

"As long as you keep the uniform on."

 

* * *

 

 

It's around the same time that his Uncle Sam starts to grow actual wings that Eli realizes he's dreaming, rubbing at his eyes and pulling himself up to see his clock read one-thirty in the morning.

Patches is none to happy about being woken up, clawing her way up the back of Eli's t-shirt to find perch on his shoulder.

The kid loves his kitten, absolutely, but she can be very stubborn.

As he scoops the small ball of fluff into his arms and lays back down, he swears he hears his papa's voice, but knows that the man is working a night shift tonight. He just shrugs it off and lays back down, trying to summon sleep once again.

 

* * *

 

 

"Ahh, Steve!"

Bucky deserves an award. Every last one of his tricks worked. The way he pitched his voice _just_ high enough when he called Steve, acting as nonchalant as possible, reading his book when Steve got home, wrapped up tight in one of Steve's sweaters and his pretty stockings.

And now, all the hard work payed off, as he finds himself riding the blond. _Hard_.

Steve's got an iron grip on his waist, surely leaving bruises. And Bucky absolutely loves it. He goes wild with it.

When he used to do this with Brock, or Jack Rollins, or any of his other numerous slimy exes, they'd treat him like a prize to be won.

But Steve?

Steve is an exceptional artist, and he treats Bucky's body like a work of art, leaving handprints on his waist, thighs, and ass, and featherlight kisses almost everywhere else.

Every touch Steve makes is done of love and passion.

"You're amazing, baby. So good for me."

Steve is a literal living and breathing wet dream, all huge and hard muscle tucked tightly into his officer's uniform, which he very happily kept on per his husband's request.

Between the sweater he's wearing and the unwavering warmth emanating from the larger man, Bucky feels as if he'll never be cold again.

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky then, pulling him down so their chests are pressed together, and uses the leverage to really drill him, and the brunet lets loose a slew of Russian curses amongst breathy pleas of _harder_.

Steve moves again, rolling them both over so Bucky's in the safest place in the world, and that's pinned underneath Steve.

The blond kisses along his jaw, then places a wet and dirty kiss on his lips before smiling dopily down at Bucky.

"Buck, did you know my dick is a weapon of _ass_ destruction."

The sounds of their combined laughter fill the room a moment later.

 

* * *

 

 

Eli is sure now that his father is home, if the loud laughter coming from his parents room is anything to go by.

His papa has a lot of jokes.

Not all of them are good.

Some however, are _so bad_ that they are good.

Those are the jokes that make his daddy's face light up and laugh echo throughout their house, and he always joins in with his fathers.

Now should be no different, right?

He can't sleep anyway.

He might as well ask his fathers if he can sleep in their room with them, now that his papa is home.

So, he scoops the kitten up into his arms once again and begins the short journey to his parent's room.

Both men are still laughing on the other side of their closed door, and Eli presses his ear to the door to try and hear what they are saying.

And he's understandably confused when he hears his daddy say a bunch of stuff he can't understand in Russian, and then say 'harder'.

Slowly, and very quietly, he pulls open the door to his fathers' bedroom, and is equally as confused by what he sees when he does.

His dads show affection in many ways, be it his papa lifting his daddy into his arms and spinning him around the house, or his daddy making the blond's favorite foods for dinner after a hard day at work, or both men showering together to 'save time.'

Eli will never say it out loud, but they always take longer when they shower together.

Now though, his papa is still in his uniform from work, kissing all over his daddy's face, who is laughing because the blond is actually the one with the beard for once, while he himself is uncharacteristically clean shaven. His daddy is wearing his favorite grey hoodie and really tight black pants. He's also got his legs wrapped around his papa's waist.

Then, his daddy literally whines.

"Stevie, pull my hair."

And he actually does it.

He grabs a fistful of his daddy's hair and tugs, making the brunet gasp and smile up at the other man.

Eli decides not to interrupt whatever game they're playing, closing the door just as quietly as he opened it, and retreating to the kitchen with his kitten to pour himself some Apple Jacks.

 

* * *

 

 

"Kate, do your mommy and daddy ever wrestle?"

Eli looks up from the work of art he'd been making with Crayola to look over at his friend, who seems to have more marker on her arms and hands then on the coloring book in front of her.

She still seems all too contented with the masterpiece she created, however, smiling victoriously down at the book.

"Yeah, sometimes. My mommy always wins."

He considers this for a few seconds before opening his mouth to speak to the girl again.

"I think my daddy and papa were play fighting the other night. My papa even pulled my daddy's hair."

She, as with most things, shrugs the information off nonchalantly and begins to color orange spots all over Elsa's face.

"My parents haven't done that. But one time, I saw my daddy tied to a chair and my mommy was dancing for him in a really sparkly black outfit."

The kids just continue on in blissful innocence, completely unaware of Clint sprawled on the floor in embarrassment on the other side of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was halfway through a game of pool with Thor and Maria when he got a text from his husband simply saying, _'home. now.'_

He's currently running about a hundred different scenarios through his head as to why he's possibly in trouble.

He doesn't think he left his greasy clothes lying around after working on his Harley last week. He knows for a fact he remembered to send Eli to school with his money for picture day this morning. He's currently wearing a light jacket, even though the temperature is pushing near sixty degrees, all because Bucky insisted.

He's not sure what has him in the doghouse with his husband, so as he pulls into the driveway, and sees Nat's car also parked there, he begins to feel a little panicked.

Skipping a few steps on his way to the door, he's relieved the minute he opens the door and sees that Bucky is fine, standing next to Nat in the kitchen with his arms folded across his chest, looking very sheepish.

Instinct has him crossing the floor and pulling Bucky into an embrace a moment later.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Bucky just lets out a labored groan and nuzzles his face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"We corrupted our baby, Steve. We're horrible people."

Steve has no idea what the Hell is going on, and looks to Nat to offer some type of explanation as to what his husband is talking about.

She just smirks back at him, and strides over to pat him on the cheek.

"Your dick is a weapon of ass destruction?"

Oh. _OH_.

"Eli thinks you guys were wrestling. You didn't corrupt him."

She then pulls Bucky away from Steve to loop their arms together and grab the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies out of the pantry, smiling a sheepish smile of her own at her friend.

"At least he didn't see you giving a private Burlesque show in lingerie."

Bucky just blushes and dips his head, and Steve smiles fondly at him before coming over to help them make the treats.

"Actually, I was wearing stockings."

As she looks between Bucky's blushing form and Steve's amused one, she can't help but laugh.

"We'll need to swap kinks before Clint gets home with our children, boys."

**Author's Note:**

> http://40.media.tumblr.com/6566be20cb6850b360d93ab4c573d92b/tumblr_o3ufwxq9td1tudumgo1_400.jpg
> 
> My inspiration for how Steve and Bucky look in this one.


End file.
